The Perfect High
by vanishingact
Summary: Draco is beautiful. He is flawless, and he knows it's true. But perfection has its limits. [Contains or refers to: anorexia, soloM, pedophilia, incest, suicide, character death]


Disclaimer: You know the drill.

……………….

Draco loved the twisting feeling in his abdomen after days without food. It wasn't because he didn't know he was beautiful. He knew his pale, lithe form was to die for, his face perfectly constructed. Draco knew how his sinful looks affected those around him. He could almost smell the longing radiating from his professors during class, when he would suck lewdly on the end of his quill, when he would lick his enticing lips in concentration. Draco could see the hungry gazes his father gave him, and the undeniable lust in his eyes when he pinned his son beneath him at night. No, Draco starved himself to feel the wrenching pain in his stomach, and the numb emptiness that would follow. Manipulating his own body meant total control; it meant power. It gave him a rush unlike any drug he'd ever tried.

--

Tapered fingers traced gently over porcelain skin stretched over lovely bones, lingering at each protruding rib.

_"One, two, three, four..." _Draco sang in a whisper, as he counted them. His voice was so soft that it barely cut through the air of the dark dormitory. He skimmed his fingertips over the downy fur that had begun to cover his body. It felt sweet, almost sensual, to his nerves. Draco closed his eyes and reveled in his sense of touch: the smoothness of his body, the crisp roughness of the bed sheets. He brought his arms above his head and stretched luxuriously, but paused when he felt something odd against his arm. Sitting up slowly, Draco clenched his teeth at the sight of small clumps of aurulent hair covering his pillow.

_"No... No no no no no!"_ He grabbed the strands and clenched them in his fist. _"This can't happen!"_

Quickly throwing on a robe, Draco stumbled blindly down the staircase into the common room and into the bathroom. He stared hard into the mirror. The damage wasn't all too noticeable, but he knew it would quickly worsen. He slid his back against a wall and sat down, bringing his bony knees to his chest.

_"I need relief without consequence!"_ he thought desperately. _"I need the perfect high!"_ Draco covered his face as stinging tears rose to his eyes, and realized his hands were still clenched tightly. Relaxing them, he saw that his nails had ripped through his thin skin. Draco watched in fascination as thin trails of blood began to drip down to his wrist, captivated by the ambrosial, bitter scent and the hypnotic movements of the red droplets as they tumbled across his skin. Stained silver blonde hairs stuck to the cuts in awkward angles. Taking the end of a strand, Draco slowly pulled it off, hissing at the short yet sharp burn, as the newly formed scabs were ripped from his hands. The Slytherin prince flicked his tongue against his skin to taste the metallic liquid, then kissed his palms.

_"Perfect."_ Draco wildly dug his nails into his wrist, and dragged a fiery trail down his arm. He touched the glowing red welts as they formed and hissed in satisfaction at the dull throb of pain, arching his back at the sensation. Waves of electricity washed over his body. Quickly, Draco undid his robe and threw it to the side.

_"More,"_ he moaned, bringing his wrist to his lips, tearing at the skin with his teeth. His other hand drew lazy circles around the base of his hardening cock, his hips jerking erratically with sensitivity. Draco let out an animalistic groan at the hot taste in his mouth and the light touches he inflicted across his body. He could hear the sound of tissue and veins ripping apart as he tore at his arm. The sound made him incredibly harder. He muffled a scream of pleasure against his wrist as a drop of blood dripped onto his chest and rolled against his left nipple. Draco switched hands and began to tear at his other arm as he pumped his thick sex, lubricated with blood and precum.

_"Yes," _he breathed, the room spinning. His head felt empty, and his eyes slid closed on their own accord. The dizzy euphoria only heightened his stupor of arousal. Rubbing his fingers across the slit, Draco's breath caught in his throat. Long spurts of creamy cum arched from the tip as he caressed his balls, spattering across his chest and face. Draco knew that it contrasted with the stark red painted across his body. He knew it was beautiful. Draco struggled to get up and look into the mirror, but fell back onto the floor, breathless. His vision began to curl gray at the edges, like burning paper. His hands slid on the floor wet with his blood, and he lay himself down on the red tiles and laughed gutturally at how light and ageless he felt. As his vision faded to black, Draco smiled wickedly. Manipulating his own body meant total control; it meant power. It gave him a rush unlike any drug he'd ever tried.

_"This is the perfect high."_

_………………._

_All right, I'm out of here. slams the door on the way out_


End file.
